What If We Got It Wrong?
by TheCivilState
Summary: Kenzi doesn't look like Cleopatra and Dyson isn't really good with words.  Somehow, it works.


_A prisoner of history_

Dyson had been alive for centuries. He had been in major wars, served kings, and did more than a few unscrupulous acts he preferred to keep in the past. He was known and respect throughout the fae community and only a complete idiot [or power hungry fae, but there was really no difference] would try to cross him. For all his years of experience, of life lived to the fullest, one would think Dyson was capable of anything.

And yet, in the presence of one annoying, stubborn, impish, human girl, Dyson was reduced to nothing. He found himself unimpressive and suddenly reevaluating what it meant to live life to the fullest. The wolf who'd spent his existence living a myriad of disguises suddenly found himself unable to hide from this girl's watery gray eyes that saw everything.

It was maddening and he wanted more.

_I'm trying to tell you something_

Kenzi sat at the bar, or rather sat _on _the bar, her too thin legs dangling off the edge as she showed off her new boots. Boots that were impossibly tall with an impossibly thin heel and Dyson found himself wondering how gravity or some other force didn't send her toppling to the ground.

Wrapped in leather, metal, and with a habit of tilting her head to the side, Kenzi was weaving quite the spell on the fae inside the Dal that night. It was easier than usual considering Bo, seductive succubus, was somewhere else. Kenzi's pale eyes found his, their misty gray standing out against the kohl she chose to rim her eyes with daily. He hadn't ever seen her without her heavily made up eyes and he suddenly wondered what she looked like with her guard down, shields cast to the side, without her makeup and shoes to hide behind.

She said something to the fae who was trying to seduce her outside for a bite to eat [Trick had a very strict 'no feeding in the bar' policy] and hopped down from the bar, not even wavering as her too tall shoes hit the uneven floor of the tall. Her too thin legs carried her towards him and her too small hand picked up the pool stick that was almost as thin as her.

"Fancy a game?" she asked, leaning against the wood object in her hands and cocking her head in the direction of the table he'd been standing dumbly next to for the last ten minutes.

"Fancy?" he teased, jumping from his trance-like state and adjusting his line of sight now that she was right in front of him and not on the other side of the bar flirting with some fae who wasn't good enough for her. As if anyone was good enough for Kenzi.

She shrugged and rolled her eyes, picking up the rack and shoving it to his chest. Then, "I thought I'd try out some ye old English since you're just as ye old. You rack, I break."

He followed her command and watched as she lined up her shot. The break was flawless and as she hopped onto the railing to get out of his way, her knee brushed his side and he was suddenly hyperaware of her… as if he could notice her presence anymore. He missed his shot and could almost hear Kenzi's victory cheer as she set herself up to win the game. If he didn't focus on the game instead of his opponent and how dark her hair was and how it smelled of red mandarin and mint, he was going to lose.

He lost. He didn't care. Especially when Kenzi broke out in an impromptu victory dance and insisted the loser buy a round of drinks. A couple hours later, he was helping a slightly intoxicated Kenzi home.

He really didn't care that he'd lost.

_Tell me there is hope for me_

"BoBo!" Kenzi called into the slightly hobo building that was their home. There was no response, so the human chucked her purse onto the kitchen counter and fell face first into the couch as she began to worm her way out of her shoes.

"Lady Love is not here," she proclaimed, "So I guess that means you can skidaddle." Dyson wrapped his hands around her ankle and she jerked at the pressure, pushing herself into an awkward sitting position so she could watch him remove her shoes.

"Do you clean and do personal shopping as well?" she asked and he shook his head, setting her shoes neatly beside the couch. "Ah well," she lamented, "It's not like my last adventure with a brownie ended very well. And seriously, their addiction to honey cannot be healthy. It's like crack to them. Someone should call those Intervention people from the television."

Dyson chuckled and Kenzi tossed a pillow at him while saying something along the lines of "don't mock the human" before she collapsed backwards dramatically with her arms falling over the sides of the couch.

"I feel like Cleopatra," she announced, angling herself into a position she deemed more… Egyptian queen or whatever. The corner of Dyson's mouth quirked up as he took in her straight hair and kohl rimmed eyes that were slowly fluttering shut.

"You look a bit like her," he said, "But only if I squint and tilt my head to the side." Kenzi's hand darted out and smack him in the shoulder and he caught it, holding it steady and forcing her to sit up.

"D-man," she said, "I don't know what I should flip a shit about first. The fact you knew Cleopatra or the fact you don't think I'm as hot as that bitch. Let me just enlighten you, I'm a sexy hooker, m'kay? Get your facts straight." He chuckled and she folded her legs under her, snatching her hand away from his grasp before she continued.

"So what was she like?" He rose from his seat on the makeshift coffee table and pushed her aside, settling down beside her and letting his arm drape along the back of the couch.

"I didn't know her," he said, "I merely met her once when I was with Caesar. I returned to Rome shortly after he settled in and never returned. Or, at least not while she was alive." Kenzi made the motions of her head exploding and Dyson imagined it probably was, to some level. It was quite difficult for humans to grasp the age of fae and the fact they had lived history. It was for that reason fae who were involved with humans tended not to mention their past. It complicated things and really, most fae were only involved with humans to keep them as pets. Kenzi was quite the rarity in all actuality.

"Trying not to leak my melty brain all over you," she said, "But I still can't believe you think the Queen of the Nile was hotter than me. I mean, come on. Look at all this." She gestured to her body and Dyson founds his eyes involuntarily taking in the full expanse of her too small body wrapped in layers of clothes he suddenly found to be very unnecessary.

"I didn't say she was more attractive than you," he said, "I just said you look a bit like her with the hair and the makeup." Kenzi flicked her hair over her shoulder and gave him her best, 'come hither' look which she laughed off, but he found it to be rather effective. Not to say he got a chance and not to say he would take it because this was Kenzi- fragile, human Kenzi- who was the best friend of his ex-girlfriend Bo- succubus, his mate. And besides, making a move while Kenzi flipped the tv on to some scientific show about animals would hardly be considered seductive. And if Dyson was going to seduce someone, he was going to go all the way.

Especially if that someone was a girl like Kenzi.

_I need you to hold all of the sadness I cannot_

Dyson didn't growl when Bo stepped from the Dal, her body wrapped in the arms of some fae promising an excellent time. Dyson didn't growl. He didn't glare. He didn't order another drink or contemplate going home and punching something because Trick would kick him out if he hit something here. Hell, all he felt was complete and utter indifference.

But then Kenzi walked into the bar, her hair curled for a change and her bangs a bit haphazard and… no eye makeup. None whatsoever. For a second he had to check his pulse just to ensure he was alive and that the apocalypse hadn't arrived and killed him without his knowledge. Because here stood Kenzi, too tiny, frail, human Kenzi in desperate need of glasses, walking about the Dal with curled hair and bare eyes and flat shoes that made her infinitely more small than normal. She was smaller, more fragile, and Dyson felt his inner wolf rise to attention when a fae sidled up to Kenzi and tried to offer her a drink.

"Kenzi," he said, slipping behind her and shooting the fae his best, 'fuck off' look, which was pretty convincing seeing how his eyes flashed amber and he gave a growl the fae would hear with his heightened senses, but it was completely lost on Kenzi who was trying to turn around on her stool. It was difficult since her feet didn't touch the rung and she normally had a couple inches of platform heels to help her out. Dyson's arm dropped to her back as the fae disappeared and he smiled down at her, a bit mesmerized by how clear and gray her eyes were and how her curly hair made her infinitely younger.

"You okay hound dog?" she teased, "That time of the wolf month?" He chuckled and she leaned into him, giving him a hug that he returned only to have his inner wolf flare up and something in his heart just… clicked.

… and then he had an 'oh shit' moment.

"Can I talk to you outside?" he asked and Kenzi too gray eyes stared up at him for a second before she agreed. After all, this was Dyson and she was Kenzi and if the poor human girl was safe with anyone, it was the alpha wolf who could turn some fae into a chew toy.

"What's up wolf-man?" she asked as they stepped into the alley that empty as night rolled in and with it a slew of storm clouds already crackling with electricity.

"What if I was wrong?" he asked in a bit of a fumble since he didn't know where he was going with this. So he tried again, "I think I was wrong." Kenzi's arms folded over her chest and her weight shifted to one side. Her hair and makeup and taste in shoes might have been different, but underneath it all, Kenzi was still herself. Badass, Russian mafia princess who would hack a Norn's tree to pieces with a chainsaw if it meant helping a friend. Dyson's inner wolf [and his non-inner wolf if he was being honest] dislike the idea of just being a friend.

"What if I was wrong about wolves mating for life?" he said, but realized that was wrong, "What if I was wrong when I thought Bo was my mate?" Her gray eyes were piercing, her face showing no expression at all as he tried to make sense. His hands grasped her shoulders and he pulled her close, feeling her breath fan across his lips as he lowered himself to her eye level.

"Kenzi," he said, "I think I was wrong." It hit her then and he could tell because she inhaled and stepped away, back coming to rest against the cool brick of the Dal. He remained where he was despite the fact all he wanted to do was step close enough to hold her and never let her go.

He watched her face go through a myriad of emotions before it finally settled into her well practiced poker face. Then she smiled, a quiet, shy smile because she was the sidekick always being overlooked in favor of the red hot succubus. But not now, not anymore. And because things were suddenly different, she stepped forward, bodyweight shifting to one side as she weighed her next words.

"Walk a girl home?" He smiled. Breathed a sigh of relief and held his arm out to her. She took it.

They never made it home before it started to rain. They ended up at his apartment instead… not that either of them were complaining.

_Can anybody help?_

•§•

**a/n: **Song is 'I'm In Here' by Sia. Threw in Kenzi looking a bit casual because even the Russian mafia princess probably has days where she doesn't want to do her hair, makeup, and just wants to muck about in comfortable shoes. I know Dyson gave all his loving to Bo, but in my Russian Wolf shipper world, they're not official mates until there's some magical ceremony [or at least some biting] involved and since Bo's blood tends to make people uber obsessed with her, I think we should avoid that. Russian Wolf all the way!

Yes, sorry, every time I think of the Kenzi/Dyson pairing I keep calling them Russian Wolf. Ain't gonna change my game but you can still fave, flame, or faint.

oxox


End file.
